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■ WAR POEMS 



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BY PETERS SISTERS 



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Copyright 1919 
BY PETERS SISTERS. 

All Riahtit Reserved. 



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MEMORANDUM. 

1. Our War With Germany. A. T. P. 

2. Under The Stars and Stripes, E. P. P. 

3. Boys on to France, A. T. P. 

4. Old Glory's Recognition, E. P. P. 

5. The Slacker, A. T. P. 

6. Do Your Best Boys, E. P. P. 

7: The Negro's Right to Fight, A. T. P. 

8. The Right Direction, E. P. P. 

9. The Better Part, A. T. P. 

10. With the Colors, E. P. P. 

11. Triumph of the Tuscania, A. T. P. 

12. Sammies Christmas Gift, E. P. P. 

13. Sammies Christmas Dreams, A. T. P. 

14. Pearls Unrecognized, E. P. P. 

15. A Daughter of Ham, A. T. P. 

16. A Spiritual Awakening, E. P. P. 

17. Father of His People, A. T. P. 

18. Paul Lawrence Dunbar, E. P. P. 

19. A Slaves Dying Prayer, A. T. P. 

20. The Negro's Progress, E. P. P. 

21. The Cost of Repentance. A. T. P. 

22. Defender of Right, E. P. P. 

23. Sons of W. V. I.. A. T. P. 

24. Musing, E. P. P. 



(5) 



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' INTRODUCTION. 

It is the very great pleasure of the 
writer to introduce to the poetical world 
Misses Ada Tress Peters, and Ethel 
Pauline Peters the only two daughters 
of Mr. and Mrs. R. E. Peters, of Beckley, 
West Virginia. 

These young ladies will be known to 
the poetical world as "The Peters Sis- 
ters." 

Always seen together, and always do- 
ing nearly the same thing at the same 
time, and seldom, if ever talking about 
any subject, unless it be poetical, is one 
of the peculiar features of these two 
young ladies. 

Miss Ada Tess is eighteen years of age 
while Miss Ethel Pauline is only seven- 
teen years; though the younger, yet the 
elder in the poetical world, having start- 
ed poetry writing while not yet nine 
years of age, and while confined to bed 
in a hospital. Miss Ada started to write 
three years later, and ever since that 
time each of the girls has been from 
time to time placing before the public 
some work on poetry. 

The Peters Sisters have had very 
limited education. Each of them spent 
one and one half years in high school at 
Institute. West Virginia, under Prof. 
Byrd Prillerman. 

Courteously Yours, 

WM. F. DENNY. 



(6) 



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The first poem written by Miss Ethel 
Pauline Peters while in Hospital and not 
yet nine years of age. 

When I get an old lady, 

I tell you what I'll do, 
I'll patch my apron, make my dress 

And hoe the garden too. 

The first poem written by Miss Ada 
Peters. 

Little birds up so high, 

Who has taught you how to fly. 

How to sing and how to play, 

All the hot summer day? 

God has taught us how to sing, 
Early in the lovely spring, 

He hath taught us how to play, 

In his own glorious way. 



(7) 



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PEEFACE. 

The sole intention of the Authors in 
writing these poems is to show the 
Negro's loyalty to the Stars and Stripes, 
In the war with Germany; and to show 
the need of unity of all men in the 
fight for democracy. 

The Authors. 



(8) 



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Original Poem by Ada Tessibel Peters. 

OUR WAR WITH GERMANY. 

I. 

America and her Allies are now engaged 

In a war that freedom might live, 
That all nations may not be enslaved 

Giving as all True Americans would 
give 
Fighting lest Germany's Kaiser should 
spread 

The spirit of feudalism over the earth, 
That the Sons of Liberty may not be led 

Captives from the land of their birth. 

II. 

While foreign field were strewn with 
dead 
With folded arms we merely looked on 
'Till the wronged people believed and 
said 
"They are gamblers, in search of 
coin." 
We became apoligist for our neutriality 

While an uncivilized war waged on 
Devoid of all principle and morality 
Urged on by brutes in human form. 

(9) 



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III. 

When the country of Belgium was in- 
vaded 
And It's inhabitants tortured and slain 
When other defenseless towns were 
raided 
And mines in neutral waters were lain 
When the smoldering ruins of France 
we saw 
The home of the world's greatest arts 
Then Humanity forced us into this war 
For America too, must do her part. 

IV. 

The Imperial German Government smil- 
ed 
When the Sussex, and Lusitania went 
down 
Unwarningly murdering American lives 

While on peaceful missions bound 
Should not this wicked and hideous 
crime 
That sent our friends to watery graves 
Help more close our hearts to bind 
And strengthen us on our rugged way? 



V. 



Some of History's cherished monuments 
Have wantonly and maliciously been 
destroyed 
While plots that outrage man's common 
sense 
By German Seditionist have been em- 
ployed. 
Like cowards they secretly tried to bribe 
(10) 



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Our friend and neighbor country 

Mexico, 
Those same conspirators and spies 
Are sneakishly lurking within our 

doors. 

VI. 

Have not their deadly bombs been 
dropped 
In Hospitals of our wounded boys? 
Killing helpless ones upon their cots 
Playing with American lives as with 
toys 
With tear dim eyes we have heard. 
Women and children victims crying 
for help 
While these destructive missiles are 
hurled 
Upon them in the jaws of death. 

VII. 

If the policy National Necessity is sus- 
tained 
Treaty Obligation '11 be buried in the 
past 
For the royal castle will again reign 
Oe'r the common people's village at 
last 
Thus the covenants that have been kept 

As a tie of friendship that binds 
Is forgotten in Germany's World Con- 
quest 
A vile insult to all man-kind. 

VIII. 
Boys you're fighting to preserve Ameri- 
can Rights 

(11) 



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To proteat the homes of the brave. 
And we're with you in this fight 

Till Autocracy lies within her grave 
The Red .White and Blue, will be borne 

As a true emblem of justice to all 
For it gives the weary traveler a home 

Then how could such a government 
fall? 

IX. 

We are struggling in a Common Cause 

With only one purpose in our hearts 
And that purpose is freedom for all 

Made sacred by the blood of patriots 
Young men how proud you must feel 

To know you're defending a Noble 
Cause 
That your life you owe to Liberty 

To your countrymen and to your God. 



We see your bosom swells with pride 
With love for the mother that gave 
Her flesh, her blood, her only pride. 
That the Star Spangled Bannner, 
might wave 
We know again the respect you had 
When your Dear Old Father firmly 
said, 
"Be another George Washington, my lad 
And sleep in an honored Martyr's 
grave." 

XI. 

When some of you beyond the clouds 
With iron nerves are fighting at dizzy 

heights, 
(12) 



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^ Proclaims your comrades are in the 

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While the brave boys on the briny deep 

Are sailing on blood-stained waves 

But in the air on land or sea 

You're fighting that Old Glory, might 

wave. 



XII. 

When you're in "No Man's Land." 

Far from home annd friends you adore 
Seek shelter in the hollow of God's hand, 

'Till the tempest of war is oe'r, 
"0 God, may our brave boys return, 

Bearing Freedom's Flag from over 
there 
While men repenting to Thee shall turn 

And Peace and Democracy reigns 
everywhere! 



A FATHER OF INSPIRATION. 

(Dedicated to President Byrd Prillerman) 
There are many in every nation 

That scorn those in the mire, 
But few are fathers of inspiration 

Like the President of W. V. I. 

IL 

The black Leader of the free 
Bade me strive to be the best 

But Honorable Byrd Prillerman helped 
me 
To travel the road to success. 



(13) 



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III. 

Unlike those who seek to charm 
The world with their selfish aims 

He's guarding Ethiopia on the farm 
For the good that might be gained. 

IV. 

West Virginia has given most 

Of her sons to liberty 
But she shall never boast 

Of a Nobler Teacher than he. 



For when peaceful Uncle Sam 
Was troubled by Belgium's cry 

Ready to fight in foreign lands 
Were those trained at W. V. I. 

VI. 

So could a race of civilization 
Own a greater man than he 

A Father of Inspiration 
And a leader of people free. 

VII. 

May God grant when our President 
Has crossed the swelling tide 

That his deeds be living monuments 
To those whom he inspired. 

VIII. 

And may Ethiopia profit by 
The standard he hath placed 

And sons of W. V. C. I. 
(14) 



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Be a credit to our race. 

— By Ethel Pauline Peters. 

God bless you, I share your thought, 
your President is indeed an able and ^ 
noble man. Long may he live. 



■:o: 



ORIGINAL POEM. 
UNDER THE STARS AND STRIPES. 

(By E. P. Peters.) 

April the sixth, Ninteen and seventeen, 

Under the stars and stripes. 

We were forcibly drawn 

In a war for our rights. 

We would be neutral no longer. 

And hear humanity's plea, 

Nor behold our vessels unwarningly sunk 

By submarines at sea. 

Freedom shall ever be 

In the country where Glory waves, 

And the golden land of Lafayette 

Shall not be enslaved. 

Boys make aKiser's poison gas 

Unnable to kill American's power. 
Feudalism shall not spread 
Oe'r this free country of ours. 
We'll help you show Germany's rulers 
Feudalism can not defend. 
Cultured civilized people, nor the 
Rights of free born men. 
Rulers that disregard treaties 
And cause bloody wars in laud 
Shall never reign on libertys soil 
To execute their plans. 

(15 



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Germany's strong aviation corps 

Like winged birds sail the air 

Dropping 'missies, taking innocent lives 

In her brutish warfare. 

She for many years prepared 

Her selfishness to unfurl ^sh 

With out warning or reason, to ^ 

Conquer and rule the world. 

0, God help us to fight 

For Democracy on foreign strands 

That we might be delivered from 

Our enemies wicked hands. 

By spreading sedition through states 
Kaiser struck patriotism a blow 
Pretending to be our friend. 
Intriguing with Japan and Mexico. 
Our enemie's destructive pretense 
On its deathly mission scuds 
While America was being raided 
With spies of German blood. 
Her schemes can not make 
Enemies of people that gave 
Their prayers, lives, and all 
That Old Glory might wave. 

Victory by Germans would mean 
Enslavement to the human race. 
While once fair fields 
Of France and ours lay waste. 
America's cities would not stand 
As homes of the free. 
New York would lose her friend 
The statue of liberty. 
The dear flag would be destroyed 
By a savage race, 
And the richness of our country 
Would be the Kaiser's estate. 
(16) 



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But to win this war, we 



^ Can not all take arms 

Some must hejjjfUncle Sam's boys 

By buying L'fberty Bonds. 

Send lots of letters 

For joy in them they'll find. 

Save food for our boys 

In France on firing lines. 

Encourage them in camp 

p And they'll be proud to go 
To fight for freedom, as 
Their fathers fought years ago. 



Democracy long hath reigned 
In the land of the brave. 
The cherished banner of Betsy Ross 
Long o'er us hath waved. 
T'was providence that directed 
Us in the path of right. 
Enabled us to live peacefully 
In war helped us to fight. 
Gave us Washington, Father of 
Our country to help defend 
The rights and freedom 
Of his rising fellow men. 

All in self defense boys 
Your part you must play 
Just as your friends are 
Doing, on French soil today. 
We are waiting and praying, 
For you patriots and braves 
To bring the glad news back 
From Autocracy we're saved. 
While in service, if your 
Tasks seem hard to do, 
Cheerfully do your best boys 
For the red, white and blue. 



(17) 



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(Original Poem by Ada Tessibel Peters) 
BOYS ON TO FRANCE. 

Sons of America, do you not hear 

The roaring of Germany's guns? 
Get up and be busy; war is near 

We must face Icaiser Wilhelm. 
Just as our fore-fathers years ago 

Against the Red Coats, made their 
stand 
So to France, you must go 

And protect the honor of our Native 
Land. 



II. 

If God's on our side, we need not fear 

For His Cause, has always won 
Fight on though the price seems dear 

Push forward, 'till the race is run. 
Mothers you too, must do your part 

In the impending strife 
Clasp not the son to your heart 

But give him to the Cause of Right. 

III. 

Show him you're willing to give 

All in life you possess 
Giving that Freedom might live. 

And mothers they'll do the rest. 
For their souls will then swell 

With that Holy Divine Strength 
That only Americans have felt 

As from it's Fountain they drink. 

IV. 

Black Boys, Uncle Sam is calling you 
too, 

(18) 



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Calling you men of African Birth 
Will you to America be true? 

And in the struggle prove your worth? 
Boys, you may think it unfair to fight 

That it's hard to have a patriotic zeal 
For a country that denies us our rights « 

That pushes us back though we're ^ 
free. 



But do good for evil we've learned 

In the Book of Ever-lasting life 
That in Heaven, a home, we might earn 

Where Blessed Peace reigns and not 
strife. 
Old Glory, you triumphantly wave 

O'er the Land of the Free 
Yet from the mobs we're not saved 

To whom, for refuge must we flee? 

VI. 

Is it right hotheaded men should take 

The law of the land in their hands? 
Can innocence be proved at a burning 
stake? 

No, then why not give us a chance? 
But boys of African Blood be true 

Ready and willing the Cause to defend 
Then may the Red, White and Blue 

Forget color and recognize men. 

VII. 

Dear Flag, we've proved ourselves 
Masters of Art 
Great inventions to the world we've 



(19) 



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VIII. 

Columbia, when on the battlefield 

Our soldiers, dying whisper, "I thirst" 
Let this woman attend to their needs 

She's a dark skin, Red Cross Nurse 
Give us the chance and we'll show 

The skill and bravery of the fairer-sex 
How we'-ll face the enemy's blow 

Though we know the stand means 
death. 

IX. 

O, God, could a stronger race do more 

For American Freedom to gain 
Than my people who bore 

The curse of slavery's chains 
When across the waters you're borne 

Boys, to the Land of Some-where 
You're defending Our Homes 

And "God Bless you," is our prayer. 



Some day the war '11 be o'er 
In triumph Old Glory'll be borne 

Back to American shores 
Back to Home, Sweet Home 

'"Till then boys, we bid you adieu 
(20) 



Yet in the government we take no part ^ 
Then yhy are vv^e to war driven? 

If in jim crow cars we must stay 
Too illiterate to ride with the whites 

Are we fit to sleep in a soldiers grave 
Or, illiterate stand by your side and 
fight? 



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Each one of you play well the game 
And may God be with you 
'Till we all meet again. 

:o: 



OLD GLORY'S RECOGNITION. 

(By E. P. Peters.) 

Prom the cotton fields or Georgia, 

Where our grand parents were slaves, 
Comes a freedom we can welcome, 

When the flag of justice waves; 
While o'er the land is floating 

The Red, White, and Blue, 
The black boys are rising 

To the old flag they'll be true, 
They are willing to die for Liberty, 

They hate the cursed revenge. 
For Old Glory's crushing prejudice. 

And recognizing her slaves' freed men. 

We have sought for knowledge 

Prom the great that we have found, 
And are earnestly striving to regain. 

Our lose heritage of renown. 
It was not slavery's cruelties 

That made black patriots in the land, 
But the fifty years of progress 

And the rights we did demand. 
The black brains that were trampled 

Now helping hands will lend, 
For Old Glory's crushing prejudice, 

And recognizing her slave freed men. 

Clouds of difficulties rose 

When four million the Old Flag faced, 
But with civilization's birth 

(21) 



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^ In a country that we'll befriend, 

For Old Glory's crushing prejudice, 
^ And recognizing slave freed men. 



a We're proud to see the colors wave, 

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The black people of earth, 
Have once more become a race. 

Hewers of wood and drawers of water. 
For many years we've been; 

But now with education's light, 
We are a people again. 

Boys remember that we are rising, 



We are a patriotic people; 



That signifies justice to all, 

In a free land of the brave; 
That acknowledges there is black brain; 

For God to all deals fair. 
And Uncle Sam is growing greater, 

For liberty we too can share. 
We are steadily growing to success, 

And helping all men to ascend, 
While Old Glory's crushing prejudice 

And recognizing slave freed men. 

Old Glory, 'twas fifty years or more 

We prayed hard to deliver 
Thy black people from burning stakes, 

To rights that God gives her. 
Just as we on thy fertile fields. 

Fought bravely to be free. 
We will fight and die for thee. 

O, flag for thy liberty. 
We'll keep your colors floating. 

And your rights we will defend 
For you are crushing prejudice jp. 

And recognizing slave freed men. p 

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(22) ^ 



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^ THE SLACKER. i 

^ (Original Poem by Ada Tessibel Peters) 
§ God forbid ere man was born 

To crush honor beneath his feet 
s That the light of day should dawn 
^ Upon one, who from duty flees 

While on Freedom's Bleeding Altar, 

His Noble Comrades have bled 
^ But he stands idle a slacker p 

^ Disgraced before living and dead. ^ 

1 II. 

^ Friends is there one among you 

^ Who has shunned the Righteous Cause 

^ Spurned the Red, White and Blue? ^ 

^ That stands for justice to all ^ 



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How can you silently sit 

When Liberty hangs in the scale? 
Where is the spirit of seventy-six? 



^ That you would be en-slaved. 

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III. 



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^ Do you deem your life greater 

p Than the just rights of man 

^ Then you're a fool and traitor 

^ Exiled in your Native Land, 

^ Rough and steep is the way ^ 

^ Leading to the victory we seek .^ 

^ But death and a coward's grave ^ 

^ Is what the slacker will meet. ^ 

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^ For dead must be the soul p 

^ That slumbers while Humanity Calls ^ 

» And beholding his brother's foe S 

^ Cries, "Give me peace and not War" Q 

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IV. 



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^ Unless thou fight to free 

All races and colors of men. ^ 

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O, Slacker what fate awaits thee 
How shateefull will be thy end 



To our protection you fled 

As a bird seeks its nest 
With mercy we pillowed your head 



VIII. 

ow the flag 
(24) 






How can you bear to see 

Christianity laid in the dust? 
By one, who hates Democracy 

And the God, whom we trust 
One who has boastingly debased 

The virtue of true womanhood 
That poligamy takes the place 

Where Sacred Rights once stood. 

VI. 

And though you were not born 

In the Land of the Free 
And your kindred at home ^ 

Is far away oe'r the sea *^ 

Eternal Allegiance you swore 

To the Stars and Stripes 
When you stepped on our shore 

To enjoy equal rights. 

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That the wanderer might rest ^ 

Drinking from the cup of kindness ^ 

Administered by loving hands ^ 

Your eyes lost their blindness ^ 

As you saw the Spirit of Man. ^ 



And now the flag needs you ^ 



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Will you stand like a man 
Or, do you feel, as slackers do 

I must help the Father Land 
Let conscience be your guide 

And it will lead you a'right 
To Columbia's bleeding side 

'Neath Liberty's burning light. 

IX. 

It's true we all can't go 

To the land of Somewhere 
But we can strike a blow 

By helping those, Over There 
Thus the German Kaiser'll know 

He cannot enslave free men 
And that every American Soul 

Will fight him to the end. 

X. 

So when the Victory is won 

And the world is at peace 
When the shedding of blood is done 

And mankind again is free 
Uncle Sam, if giving up life 

For the deliverance of men 
Does not give all, equal rights 

Who will be, the slacker then? 



DO YOUR BEST BOYS. 

(Original Poem by E. P. Peters.) 

Do the best yoij^ can, boys, 
In Uncle Sam's call to arms. 

Fear not the Boches' bluff noise; 
Be ready, brave, true and calm. 

(25) 



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ssj Keep the dear old banner flying 

^ With your bayonets its rights demand, 

•^ Show the world you're upward striving, 



II. 

O, loyal citizens go not unheeded, 
To the call humanity makes. 

Your money and help is needed, 
^ To keep the United States. 

The appeals to you sons of Liberty, 
pj-. And to those from foreign strands, 

^ To protect those who protected thee, 
^ By doing the best you can. 



And doing the best you can. 



III. 

Your eyes opened at freedom's touch, 

So come now, do not wait. 
Show Wilhelm you're with us. 

For the welfare of our state. 
Let not your hearts be confined; 

Let feuds die with the past. 
Strengthen us in this perilous time. 

Ye of all races, colors and class. 

IV. 

Though scant your purse may be, 

Keeping you from giving your best. 
Explaining, you can make others see. 

The need of buying W. S. S. 
For the Red Cross' noble work, 

We humbly ask your aid again, 
Pray do not from duty shirk. 

But do the best you can. 

V. 
We know its far away boys 
To a strange land you go, 
(26) 



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But fight to keep home's joy 

From destruction of the foe. 
Yes they will make It warm. 

For you in No Man's Land. 
But remember that you are American 
born 

And do the best you can. 

VI. 

If you get blue and lonesome 

Forget it all and smile, 
Be proud that you're saving home, 

If its only for awhile. 
To your countrymen be true, 

Hold high the rights of man; 
Fret not at what you're told to do 

Just do the best you can. 

VII. 

When you hear your comrades grumble, 

Pat him kindly on the back, 
Tell him right must not tumble. 

Because some fellow grows slack. 
If you try this simple plan, 

Courage's spark you can renew. 
And Sammies will realize their stand. 

For the Red, White and Blue. 

VIII. 

When shells fall fast around you, 

And perhaps you would like to hide, 
Think what great things we do, 

By working without growing tired. 
Boys don't mind the war cloud, 

Fight for your people and land. 
We of you patriots are proud. 

So do the best you can. 

(27) 



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THE NEGROE'S RI^HT TO FIGHT. 

O, ye men of African Creed, 

America is our home 
We were born among the Free 

Though bondage claimed our own, 
I know we have forgiven 

All the wrongs done a race 
And as American Citizens 

Are ready to take our place, 

II, 

Boys we were right to fight 

For how oft have we prayed 
For justice and Equal rights 

Yea, for this trying day 
Ethiopia sends forth her Herald 

In answer to our prayer 
Crying Freedom for the World 

And Democracy everywhere. 

III. 

Noble Comrades 'tis our black hands 

That will bear Old Glory across 
The fields of No Man's Land 

To Humanity's Bleeding cross. 
There we will wrestle with death 

Till the great Victory is gained 
And when we are laid to rest 

God grant we die not in vain. 

IV. 

Out of this war will rise 

Not the black man of old 
But one who fought and died 

The true American Negro, 
So boys every one should fight 

(28) 



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To preserve a Just Cause 
^ It's only fair and right ^ 

^ To give our lives, our all. ^ 



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VI. 



Boys as a Brother to Man 
We've proved loyal in the past 
^ Thus winning the right to stand 
^ And defend the Stars and Stripes. 

^ So friends, we'll keep the trust 
M That swells our bosom with pride 

And She'll never trail the dust 
While we are by Her Side. 



VII. 

Uncle Sam we are with you 



^ For you are with the Right 

^ And with hearts that are true 

^ We'll help you win this fight 

^ We stand ready at your command 
For you seek not personal prize 

fjsj Wiith the enemy hand to hand 

^ We'll save that principal or die. 



VIII. 
Brave Warriors, when we leave 



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^ For when Belgium was robbed ^ 

^ Of life and years of toil 1^ 

^ Faster beat our heartthrobs ^ 

^ Warning us that duty calls. 

^ And then we saw France struggle 

^ In the conflict just begun 

P As she called her Black Brother's 

^ To help conquer the cruel Huns. 



(29) ij 



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For the trench and fireing line 
Our hearts will ache with grief 

To leave loved ones behind 
But there is a Greater Love 

That leads us on and on, 
Leads us through flames and floods 

To the "Great Awakening Morn." 

IX. 

Look boys as Old Glory waves 

We behold the spirits of man 
Lincoln and Douglas from the grave, 

Guide us as to foreign strands 
They salute the Stars and Stripes 

These Honored Myrters, side by side 
Showing us we've a right to fight 

As they nobly fought and died. 



THE EIGHT DIEECTION. 

(Original Poem by E. P. Peters.) 

In nineteen I was grieved to hear. 

The murmur of many strange tongues, 
That told in a struggle near, 

Liberty would sacrifice her sons. 
Strong, weak, and innocent will perish 

Until the right cause is won. 
For man's life is not cherished 

By the beastly, heartless huns. 

And as I sat busy thinking. 

How to help protect the stripes, 
I saw my black brother drinking 

From the cup of disfranchised rights. 
I saw sons of honest toil. 

Robbed of life and protection. 

(30) 



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Yet they are answering Democracy's call 
And striving in the right direction. 

The black mothers of Tennessee, 

Are giving their blood to Frannce, 
And only asking of people free. 

That they be given a chance. 
From the blood hounds thirsty flight, 

They are asking to be saved. 
For men should enjoy equal rights 

Where the Star Spangled Banner 
waves. 

Just as God rained down manna, 

And the children of Isreal fed; 
He'll give sons of Louisiana, 

The rights for which they've pled. 
For we're not fighting for possession. 

Nor wishing that others should fall 
But traveling in the right direction. 

To a home that welcomes all. 

So remember that we've not protested, 

To do a loyal citizens part, 
Though the memory of Houston, Texas, 

Is still burning in our hearts. 
Our duty is to Glory, boys, 

No matter what falls our lot. 
That Democracy may not be destroyed, 

And that the paths be not forgot. 

I saw Ethiophia Slowly rise. 
In the midst of scornful men, 

Guided by power from on high. 
And deserted by earthly friends. 

But her voice is not still, 
Nor hid is her black face, 

(31) 



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For her patriots of San Juan hill, 
In history have no place. 

And though our tongues were bridled 

Because we were sons of Ham, 
"We could not stand by idle, 

When needed by Uncle Sam. 
With heart sympathy we listened, 

To innocent mouths crying for bread. 
Still unseen we have risen 

That the hungry might be fed. 

Old Glory you have many friends, 

But we have proved the truest. 
Although you've failed to defend 

Your sons of East St. Louis, 
From poverty and oppression, 

The weary wanderer of night, 
Starts in the right direction 

To help win the perilous fight. 

Mother when clouds sweep before you. 

And your sons you sacrifice, 
Be proud brave Ethiophia, 

Is still dying for the right. 
Dropping college books and professions, 

Leaving an Educational chance, 
We follow in the right direction, 

To help our brothers in France. 



To preserve Christianity, 

We did not ponder or wait. 
And fought to save humanity. 

While our comrades burned at stake. 
But boys hold high the Stripes, 
Give them your strong protection, 
m For you shall inherit eternal life 
^ That strive in the right direction. 

(32) 

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So let us forget our trials. 

Though like pilgrims we roam, 
But thank God we're not exiles, 

And America is our home. 
Let the spirit of sixty-five 

In every bosom swell, 
For Democracy ever strives 

That in paradise all will be well. 

No longer we're patient or humble, 

For the barbaric crimes we see, 
Shall not cause justice to crumble. 

Nor enslave old Liberty. 
So black sons of rejection, 

Be loyal, be brave, be true. 
Go forth in the right direction, 

Defend the Red, White and Blue. 



THE BETTER PART. 

(Original Poem by Ada Tessibel Peters) 

On Boston soil in 1775, 

When America fought to be free 
Crispus Attucks a Negro 'didst die 

'Didst shed his blood for Liberty; 
Though slavery's yoke was upon him 

Though his people had no voice 
A heart beat for his fellow-men 

And Freedom or death his choice. 

n. 

His body in shot torn rags 
Fell beneath the Stars and Stripes 

Lifting his eyes saw the Flag 
For which he gave his life 

(33) 



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To that Celestial City, went forth 
The soul of the Black Patriot, 

As he gave up the ghosts 
We chose the Better Part. 

III. 

When Spain fought her Cuban Brothers 

Crushing the rights of a weaker race 
Our hearts in sympathy were troubled 

As we saw Humanity disgraced 
Our boys said to Uncle Sam, 

"Is not this war our war? 
Then give us power to stand 

And help defend the Cause." 

IV. 

In the charge up San Juan 

When the rough riders faced defeat 
When lost victory before them dawned 

And behind them a scorned retreat. 
It was then the True Soul 

Of the black troops were tried 
And the story we all know 

Of how they fought and died. 



Through facing the Spaniards fire. 

Through Our Blood, that was spilled 
Old Glory was placed on high 

On the summit of the hill. 
Such deeds have buried the tomahawk 

Healed the wounds of bleeding hearts. 
Together the White and Black walk 

To choose. The Better Part. 

VI. 

Thus the two races, in union 
Toiled along the road of life 
(34) 



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In a brotherly communion 

Free from hatred and strife 
When from far o'er the sea 

Came Humanity's Call for help 
Came groans of people bereaved 

In a struggle of Freedom and Death. 

VII. 

We saw German Soldiers Kill 

Siberia's peace loving Sons 
Saw blood of innocent ones spilled 

In the mouth of murderous guns, 
Heard the cries of women and children 

Beholding their humble homes afire 
Then into dark slavery driven 

Like cattle, to perish and die. 

VIII. 

Bleeding Belgium, cried to live 

As she struggling gave all 
That earthly mortals could give 

To preserve the Righteous Cause. 
France stretched forth her hand 

The hand that proved our friend 
Pleading from, "No Man's Land" 

For the Freedom of Men. 

IX. 

Old Glory, your Black Boys 

Long to see. Democracy reign. 
For Freedom's fully enjoyed 

By those, who have worn chains. 
Uncle Sam, we're by your side 

Fast within beats our hearts 
And when we say goodbye 

We will choose. The Better Part. 

(35) 



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X. 

A black mother pressed her son 

To the bosom that nursed him 
For the parting hour had come 

To help defend his countrymen. 
Looking into his eyes she said, 

"On the altar of thy heart 
Burns a spirit that has led 

You to choose, The Better Part. 

XI. 
I who have watched o'er thee 

From the very moments of birth 
Feel the patriotism you feel 

Knowing my boy'll prove his worth. 
If this be the last time 

To press you to my heart, 
Die fighting on the firing line 

And choose, The Better Part. 

XII. 
His countenance now bore 

A greater love, a greater pride 
For the Uniform he wore 

And the woman by his side. 
"Mother he said. Thy Sacrifice 

Is not made in vain 
For the Stars and Stripes 

Shall wave in peace again. 

XIII. 
I fear not, the cruel Huns 

Nor their horrible deeds and threats. 
For is it in my people born 

To cringe, from a Noble Death? 
Then mother, wipe away thy tears 

And kiss me 'ere I start 
For I cannot linger here 

And choose. The Better Part." 

(36) 



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WITH THE COLORS. 

(Original Poem by E. P. Peters.) 

Faded is the light of day, 

When I have finished my task, 
And in a land far away, 

Your memory holds me fast. 
For it seems but yesterday, 

I held you on my knee, 
Never thinking that you would play 

In the game for Democracy. 
But my son I am glad 

My feeble fingers can knit 
For patriots of the service flag. 

Who are proudly doing their bit. 

II. 

I'm sacrificing when I stay. 

At home where you have been, 
And toiled daily that you may. 

Help the right cause win. 
Vacant is thy room above me, 

And empty is thy chair, 
But onward, for 'tis victory, 

Awaiting those playing fair. 
And though silver is my hair, 

I'm still your faithful mother; 
World freedom is my prayer 

For I am with the colors. 

III. 

We the mothers of the free 

Are proud that we toiled not alone 
In the fight to keep Autocracy 

From the heart of Liberty's home. 
All nations are in a stir, 

For mankind's being slaughtered 

(37) 

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By the hands of German Kultur, 
Who has no excuse to offer. 

Brutality in our face is slamed, 
Morality they've tried to smother, 

But fear not dear Uncle Sam, 
For I am with the colors. 

IV. 

We will preserve Democracy, 

No matter what it may cost, 
We're servants of the Almighty, 

And followers of the cross. 
In the dreaded war zone 

Where man seeks not for rest. 
Loyalty and bravery is shown. 

By aid of the fairest sex. 
Red is the cross they wear. 

They're helping our wounded brothers 
We cherish them as gems rare 

Who are serving with the colors. 



In the Y. M. C. A. 

Brave Sammy takes a part, 
For 'tis encouragement by the way, 

And peace to our troubled heart. 
The sun of eighteen and nineteen 

Is smiling on them over there. 
And though no longer they're seen 

We're helping them everywhere. 
Foreigners, strangers, black and white, 

Are working with each other. 
Striving, dying to win the fight. 

Forgetting race class and color. 

VI. 

Greater is the spirit of today, 
(38) 



Than that of seventy six 
For fuedalism can not stay 

Where Democracy doth exist. 
The Lusitanian victims we saw, 

But still loyal we stand, 
'Till o'er is the bloody war. 

And safe is our native land. 
To Berlin we will gladly go. 

And if it need be further. 
Just to let the whole world know 

That we are with the colors. 



TRIUMPH OF THE TUSCANIA. 

(Original Poem by Ada Tessibel Peters.) 

America drops a Laurel 

On the Tuscania's dead 
While war's cold wind howl 

O'er our uncovered heads. 

II. 

Though silent now the tongue 

Of that brave gallant host 
The race is yet to run, 

The prize is not lost. 

III. 

We still hear them sing 

Awaiting the water's call 
As if death was a thing 

Welcome to us all. 

IV. 

Asleep in a watery grave 
Thy Noble Spirits still live 

(39) 



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As to Freedom Thou gave 
In like#manner we give. 



Mother your son slumbers 
While his unfinished work 

Is carried on by numbers 
Whose duties will never shirk. 

VI. 
Falling your son gave all 

That human heart could give 
To save the Righteous Cause 

And his country from ill. 

VII. 

Then mothers do not cry 
For thou suffereth not alone 

Comfort others that must die 
For their flag and home. 

VIII. 

When America is safe 
From the Barbaric Huns 

And Kaiser finds his place 
Is not in the sun. 

IX. 

When Autocracy is crushed 

By the hands of right 
And Feudalism's doctrine hushed 

From those seeking the light. 

X. 

Then the Tuscania's Boys 
Shall triumph in the grave 
For their comrades loyal 
Fought and saved the day. 
(40) 



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SAMMY'S CHRISTMAS GIFT. 

(Original Poem by E. P. Peters.) 

Wlien the merry Christmas day, 

Dawned in No Man's Land, 
And Christmas boxes from home. 

Given Sammies on foreign strand; 
All heads bowed low, 

While Old Glory was raised. 
Giving thanks to man. 

And to the Christ Child praise. 
"When prayer had been offered, 

Happy, two trenches did depart. 
All save one remained 

With bowed head and aching heart. 

II. 

As the old flag rippled, 

He cried, May she live. 
Always for the right, but 

Oh, God, what can I give? 
To my kind people in 

The land of the free, 
Who has sacrificed to 

Send this box to me, 
Oh, what can I give 

For the cause of right. 
But his cries was hushed 

In the command to fight. 

III. 

With pride he fought, while 
Bursting shells filled the air, 

Smiling faced the enemy. 
Tried not his life to spare. 

Stood while comrades fell beside 
Him, fighting with wounding hand, 

(41) 



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To keep the cursed Autocracy 
From retgning in the land. 

But as the battle grew hotter, 
The Sammies filled with fear. 

For in death their Captain lay 
With the enemy near. 

IV. 

At last from out the smoke. 

The wounded hands did raise. 
"Boys on to victory, be 

Brave and fight," he cried. 
Then fighting like true Americans, 

The battle was on again. 
The enemy retreated leaving field. 

Of sleeping and suffering men. 
Dying their leader cried, pointing 

To the Stars and Stripes, 
"Boys I've given all. 

To help you win the fight." 



"Don't retreat in battle, fight 

On till all is well. 
Till the right has won. 

And peace on earth dwells. 
When you fight hardest, pray 

God will help you give 
Your life to old Liberty 

That free people might live. 
So boys meet me when 

Your country you have saved. 
Goodbye all and Old Glory 

May she ever wave." 

VI. 

When the sun hid its face, 
(42) 



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Behind the snowy hills, 
When the battle field was cleared, 

And thundering cannons stilled. 
The stars from their firmanent 

Gave forth their brillant light, 
Guarding as they did the 

Shepards, sleeping Sammies through 
night. 
The old flag still waved. 

Though torn in the fight. 
Cheering patriots dead and 

Dying for Democracy and it's rights. 

VII. 

When Christmas night was o'er, 

From a long sweet repose, 
Boys of Red, White, and Blue, 

Sad but bravely rose. 
Each man performed his duty, 

Each offered a morning prayer. 
Bugles summoned to mess hall. 

In the land of somewhere. 
Their hearts beat with patriotism 

While grieved countenance showed 
respect 
To the comrade who saved them 

From captivity and death. 

VIII. 

When the spot was chosen. 

And the opening waiting there. 
Sammies marched with tearful eyes. 

While music filled the air. 
The old flag was borne 

And waved slowly over head. 
While the patriot was lowered 

Into a country martyr's grave. 

(43) 



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And the epitaph was written, 
Love for, Stars and Stripes 

Could not be greater than 
The man that gives his life. 



SAMIHIE'S CHRISTMAS DREAM. 

(Original Poem by Ada Tessibel Peters.) 

An American rises on Christmas Day 

In the dawn of coming manhood 
Falling upon bended knee to pray 

As his teachings bade him do 
Humbly asking his God to guide 

Him in the paths of right 
When absent from his mother's side 

To make his way in life. 
Begging for strength lest he fall 

Discouraged by the way 
Ready to help Humanity's Cause 

Of those, who've gone astray. 

II. 

Pleading for the girl and boy 

That drifting ,with the tide 
Seeking only pleasure and joy 

Losing self respect and pride 
Change their hearts 'ere they meet 

The doom that will surely come 
Though tears of regret they weep 

Is useless when life is done. 
When their hair is fading gray 

May from repenting lips be told 
Dear Jesus passed by the way 

And saved my dying soul. 

(44) 



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III. 

For the sinful father he prays 

That craves and begs for rum 
Sending his wife to her grave 

From the shack in the slums. 
Leaving two little blue-eyed girls 

To make their way in life 
Ignorant of the sinful world 

Of it's temptations and strife, 
O, God may thy Guiding Angel 

Lead these little Maidens fair 
Out of earthly harm and danger 

To Thy Holy House of Prayer. 

IV. 

Again 0, God, I beseech Thee 

To bless my Native Land 
Divided may we never be 

For only united we stand. 
If cruel war should ever come 

In the Land of the Free 
May I proudly shoulder a gun 

And die for Liberty. 
May we forever fight. 

That Democracy might win 
Ever live the Cause of Right 

Is my Christmas Prayer, Amen. 

V. 

Then slowly he raises at length 

Refreshed in his morning's prayer 

His face radiant with Divine strength 
That God's messengers planted there. 

From this brave lad we gleam 
A lesson for young and old 

That'll make life a pleasant dream 

(45) 



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Unmarred by sin and woe. 
For how happy we'd all be 

Instead of thinking of self 
If we'd give others in need 

Helping those, in distress, 

VI. 

Sisters and brothers clinging to him 

They join the family fireside 
Mother and Father greeting them 

Their only jewels, there only pride. 
Suddenly on the air there falls 

The chiming of Christmas Bells 
Shaking the ancient church walks 

As joyfully the good news tell 
Their voices in harmony blend 

In the old fashioned pew 
Singing to the Sons of Men 

A song of Love and Truth. 

VIII. 

He hears the white haired priest 

Tell the story of our Christ 
Of the babe that would teach 

Men the way of Eternal Life 
How in a manger he lay 

Close to his mother's breast 
Upon a lowly bed of hay 

To pay man's sinful death 
An example for us to be 

Meek and lowly of heart 
Seeking not the front seat 

But satisfied with our lot. 

VIIL 

While the shepherds by night 
Watched their flock of sheep 
(46) 



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They saw a wonderful light 

A great star in the east. 
A loud noise was heard 

An angel stood before them 
Saying "Peace on Earth, 

Good Will to Men." 
When the child was found 

They gave thanks to God 
Who's Son to earth came down 

And filled tile world with Love. 

IX. 

As Christ toiled day by day 

The blind saw, the dumb talked, 
And to a cripple he said, 

"Take up thy bed and walk." 
Thus man's soul was redeemed 

For Christ the mortgage payed 
His blood the sinful world cleaned 

And taught us how to pray 
On the cross with thorn clad head 

To his promise still was true 
"Father, forgive them," He said, 

"They know not what they do." 

X. 

Floating in the morning's breeze 

The old flag, silent and serene 
Awakens Sammie from his sleep 

From his happy Christmas Dream. 
Then Sammie saluteing the Stars and 
Stripes 

With swelling breat exclaimed 
I've pledged you honor and life 

That world Democracy will reign 
As this brave soldier sits 

(47) 



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^ Smiling in his trench Over There 

» Lo, a sonff falls from his lips 

^ His Country's National Air. 

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^ (Original Poem by E. P. Peters.) 

M Oh wandering pilgrims of Virginia, 

M Who made you noted men. 

^ Whom was ever your defender. 
And proved old Glory's friend. 
Was it not back in sixteen 



For slaves of your selfish will. 



^ When your unfree tongues were still, 

^ You ignorantly bought pearls unseen, 

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^ In vales and on historic hills, 

^ Where your gallant heroes sleep, 

« Once Ethiophians your soil tilled, 

^ From dawn till sunset peace. 

^ Raised grain and your cattle fed, 

^ In your business planned and advised, 



Without place to lay their heads 



^ Your own pearls unrecognized. 

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III. 

From tobacco made you wealthy, 



^ Your cruelty was humbly borne 

^ Slave cooks made you healthy, ^ 

^ Black boys protected your homes, ^ 

^ With maimed bodies and chained hands, 

M Died to make your sons free, 

^ Rare gems in a slave land. 

Robbed of rights and liberty. 

(48) 



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IV. 

Mother Nature doth sadly gaze 

On the sunlit southern plains, 
Pityinng hands forced to raise 

Crops for their masters gain. 
Tilling fields of cane and cotton 

That you heartless masters rest, 
And your home builders you've forgotten 

Laid foundations for your success. 



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Scarred backs of unpaid toil. 

Motherly rocked your brave sons. 
While their black faces spoiled 

All good things they'd done. 
For two hundred and forty years 

Served you faithfully as a friend, 
Unpitied dwelled in want and fear, 

Four million helpless uncounted gems. 

VI. 

Naked on the auction block, 

You separated mother and child, 
At their pleadings only mocked. 

On their pitiful condition smiled. 
Forgiving ^humanity toiled patiently on. 

Sacrificing for your boys and girls, 
While poverty on the cabins dawned. 

Of the uncared for hated pearls. 

VII. 

From whipping posts of plantation, 

Rose innocent cries of man. 
Music of a southern Nation, 

Execution of their commands. 
Still loyal with heart aches, 

(49) 



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They came eager to your aid 
Pearls that perished at burning stakes, 
You a leading people made. 

VIII. 

While wealth made you able, 

To do other honerable 'deeds, 
The crumbs from your table, 

Were left for those in need. 
Honored by Ethiophia's children. 

Served by their willing hands, 
You forgot you once were pilgrims. 

And crushed the rights of man. 

IX. 

Your words were deemed great, 

As proud emperors of Rome, 
Sowing earless seeds of waste. 

Unthankful of having a home. 
In ignorance gloom kept a race. 

Taught them to steal and fraud; 
Morality shamefully did debase. 

Told them nothing of a God. 



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Loved ones their only pride. 

Rags their physical protector. 
Independence spark slowly died 

In hearts humiliation melted. 
Brave gems from their people sold. 

Tried hard to forget their pain, 
Noble emotion blossomed in their souls. 

Reminding them black sons have 
brains. 



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The long uneducated minds, 

Gradually in wisdom grew broad, 
(50) 



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Soul salvation they did find, 

In a true forgiving God. 

When through the night they prayed, 

That their sons might be free. 
Asked forgiveness for those who made, 

Slaves of pearls and humanity. 

XII. 

Low bowed heads snowy white, 

Stood in every vabin door, 
Thankful that the bloody night, 

God suffered to pass o'er. 
Tear stained cheeks smiled with pleasure 

Of being in a revolutionized world. 
For Freedom their long lost treasure 

Returned to unrecognized pearls. 



A DAUGHTER OF HAM. 

(Original Poem by Ada Tessibel Peters.) 

A little maiden left home and friends 

To brave the storms of life's sea 
Filled with ambition for Great Things 

With hopes of a Race just free 
Born with a longing desire to help 

Humanity regardless of color or creed 
Made her the Sunshine, where ere she 
dwelt 

To the friendless, and those in need. 

II. 

Purity of thought, blinded her eyes 
To the world and it's selfish aims 

Of men and women daily beguiled 
In search of favor and fame 

(51) 



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Crushing people because of birth 

Because of blood flowing in their veins 

Thinking not of the soul and it's worth 
Nor recognizing the power of brains. 

III. 
Little did the Noble Child realize 

Of disappointments not afar off 
Of opportunities to be denied 

And battles that must be fought 
I see her as she smilingly bade 

Childhood's happy scenes adieu 
And turning sought the untrodden way 

That led to friends and foes anew. 

IV. 
Behold our heroine makes her way 

Through the 'midst of the city's poor 
As she walks we hear her pray 

For the victims of poverty and woe 
Suddenly across the path there falls 

A form motionless at her feet 
While to her ear comes a faint call 

"Give me food that I may eat." 



Thus two earthly mortals take leave 
And start on life's journey refreshed 

VI. 

"When I lie hungry by the road 

Thou gavest me bread to eat 
Lightening the burden, of a weary soul 

With a spirit so humble and meek 
Though cursed thy dark skin be 

Continue to feed God's Lambs 
And good will, shall follow thee 

Thou Faithful Daughter of Ham." 

(52) 



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One because of the blessing received 
The other saved from hunger and death 

They shall meet in that Holy Land 
When the sea gives up it's dead 

Our Beloved Daughter of Ham 
And the hungry that was fed. 

VII. 

She has labored for many days 

Helping alike both Saints and thieves 
And with eager hands, to them gave 

All she had, even to her need 
The body fatigued and careworn 

Cries out for bread and jam 
For Humanity's burden daily borne 

Grew heavy to the Daughter of Ham. 

VIII. 

When despairing of her quest 

She heard voices happy and gay 
And saw people richly dressed 

Entering a door by the way 
Hoping here to find her goal 

Footsteps are turned to the crowd 
Where a servant fills the door 

With a king's air so proud. w-, 

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IX. i 

"Pray what can I do for you?" 

Said the servant, to the maid 
"I'm starving give me food" 

Our little pilgrim said. 
Then the servant, with a ghastly stare 

Hastily replied, "I'm sorry mam ^j, 

You are forbidden to eat in there p 

For you are a Daughter of Ham." ^ 

(53) I 



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X. 

Then pas»ing into the night 

She offered to heaven a prayer 
That some one would bear the light 

To sinning men and women fair 
Lo, as the stars gave forth 

Bright light o'er all the land 
To God's Throne marched the soul 

Of the dying Daughter of Ham. 

XL 

Sons of men why hurl 

Hate and scorn at one another 
When Christ died for the world 

And not for race or color 
He dying shed his blood 

That we all might live 
In unity and love 

Ever ready to forgive 



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XII. 
On the face man look 

And if it pleases the eye 
We blindly shield a wolf 

Oft times a thief and spy 
But God seeth the heart 

And judges us thereby 
Thus all can own a part 

In a home on high 

XIII. 
When our eyes grow blind 

With the veil of years 
May we leave behind 

A record honored and dear 
So both rich and lowly 

Remember the Bleeding Lamb 
And forget not the story 

Of the Daughter of Ham. 

(54) 



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SPIRITUAL AWAKENING. 

Upon the long hard frozen ground, 
Snow flakes lay thick and white; 

And twilight scarcely its way found. 
When it was lost in night. 

In a palace of wealth and beauty, 
Happy was wife, husband and child, 

Forgetting faith and Christian duty. 
Following vanity, fame, and style. 

Suddenly from out the silence came, 

A loud rap upon the door, 
And before them with unknown name. 

Stood a frail form covered with snow. 

Then husband ordered bread and wine, 
To redden the pale guests face. 

While a servant was commanded find 
The weary stranger a resting place. 

The food of the very best, 

Pilgrim was invited to eat, 
And slowly as one in distress. 

He rose upon his aged feet. 

"You are very kind he said, 

To lend me a helping hand. 
You shall for all be paid. 

For you are a brother to man." 

Clothed in a costly evening gown. 
The proud wife before them stood; 

With upright head and scornful frown. 
Looked upon the begger of food. 



"Have I not seen you before?" 



(55) 



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Of the stranger she inquired. 
"Yes," he answered, "among the poor, 
You've "Seen and passed me by." 

Taking innocent children from unknown 
friend 

Wife left blinded to mankind's plea, 
But husband followed Pilgrim to defend, 

The cause of suffering humanity. 

With Pilgrim who long had borne 
The burden of a sinful world. 

Husband entered a drunkard's home. 
And rescued his friendless girl. 

Clothed in his coat of fur. 

The unpitied was sheltered from cold 
Into his rich home took her. 

To teach her of the soul. 

"I've brought Alice a playmate" 

Said husband to his wife. 
But she proudly refused to take 

The poor into her child's life. 

So innocent children ignorant of class. 
Became devoted to each other. 

While o'er them was passed, 

The cruel sentence, of Alice's mother. 

"She must not stay here John," 
She said, "You must go alone, 

And take away the low born, 

You unthinkingly brought into our 
home." 

"It is God's will," he replied, 
"I'll fight till the victory's won, 
(56) 



Never again will I drift with the tide, 
For I'm needed in the slums." 

At wifes request, clergymen talked, 
To husband how he was losing, 

The dignity of their Christian walk. 
With the poor they thought amusing. 

Husband in silence had remained 
Until his friends ceased to come. 

Then from the pulpit he exclaimed, 
"Duty calls me in the slums. 

Taking with her their only child, 
Wife joined her society friends; 

Charmed by luxury and style. 
And blinded to her sin. 

On bended knees at night fall. 

When mankind goes to rest. 
Christian on the Savior called 

To strengthen him in distress. 

His life was deprived of sunshine. 

Or all he had was gone. 
But Pilgrim came the second time 

And guided him from wrong. 

So again in the narrow path, 
Teaching sons and daughters of men. 

Christian helped the downtrodden class. 
To come out of their sins. 

Saloon keepers, bartenders, gamblers, 

Vile men that swear and curse. 
Willingly stopped their sinful ramble 
And became a part of Christian's 
church. 

(57) 



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When told of his childs death, 
Christian^ grieved not nor mourned, 

For he'd sacrificed pleasure and wealth. 
To join her round God's throne. 

Though bent with toil and grief. 

His work the world was demanding, 

He lived to tell of a peace, 
That passes all understanding. 

Smiling upon his friends with pride. 
He bade them meet him there. 

And entered his chamber and died. 
With the Holy book of prayer. 

As the prodigal son returned home. 
So unto her husband did wife. 

Finding God had claimed his own. 
And given him eternal life. 

In grief kneeling down by husband. 
She looked heavenward to pray 

When before her stood Pilgrim 
The street beggar she'd turned away. 

Pilgrim's countenance became bright 
and pure. 

His worn rainment spotless and white 
"Now," she cried, "I know you. 

You are the truth and light." 

She saw as a shepard sees, 

That cares not for his fold, 
The child she hoped to be, 

Left hungry, penniless, and cold. 

"O, John, what shall I do," 

She cried, "I've scorned humanity." 
(58) 



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Child whispered, "God will save you, 
For He saved Pa and me." 

At last forgiveness had come, 
Upward strived child and wife. 

To meet their sleeping loved ones 
When the soul seeks its flight. 



FATHER OF HIS PEOPLE. 

(Original Poem by Ada Tessibel Peters.) 

In the year 1858 

On a Virginian Plantation 
Was born a babe who someday 

Would walk and talk with nations 
In his veins flowed the blood 

Of Ethiopia's Noble Hearted Sons 
Born 'midst slavery's mire and mud 

A great leader of men had come. 

XL 

In a rough hewn board hut 

Booker saw the light of day 
Blessed with a kind mother's trust 

In her arms he fondly lay 
His childish eyes did not gaze 

Upon fine paintings on the wall 
But watched little pickanninies play 

While water in the kettle boiled. 

TIL 

The child of Nature boasted not 
Of proud ancestory or titled kin 

For bondage had fallen his lot 
And four million of his fellow men 

(59) 



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Deep in the heart of that boy 
A spark of independence burned 

Early losing the thrill for toys 
Longing for a chance to learn. 

IV. 

Just before the dawn of day 

When the world's lost in dream 
The lad heard his mother pray 

And there the truth was gleamed 
From then was waged a battle 

From then his life work begun 
To enlighten the Human chattels 

When 'ere the hour should come. 



At last God heard the pleas 

Of the four million humble souls 
And suffered them to be free 

To serve their God of old. 
With the North and South's decision 

The slave child's hope was realized 
Going forth to prepare his mission 

He bade his lowly habitat Goodbye. 

VI. 

Toiling through sunshine and rain 

Working patiently in the salt mills, 
Took unto himself a name 

The proudest that history could give. 
An unseen eye, saw a day 

Drawing near; when the world's 
readers 
Beholding his works would say 

"He too, is Father of His People." 

VII. 

As in the days of old 
(60) 



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Brave Romans with armors of steel 
Met in the arena their foe 

Either to kill, or be killed. 
So with his schooling completed 

Booker Washington, now went forth 
To conquer or to be defeated 

True to his boyhood oath. 

VIII. 

His helmet the Word of God, 

Freely given to those that ask 
His sword a heart of love 

And Divine truth, his only mask. 
Thus clad in this court of mail 

That protects the souls of men 
On life's stormy sea set sail 

To battle against fog and wind. 

IX. 

Ever in the quest of Knowledge 

Took up the study of law 
Entered the famous Hampton Institute 

Preparing to stand in Congress Hall. 
But providence had a Nobler Cause, 

For this young man to pursue 
Throwing down the books of law 

Sought his works in fields anew. 

X. 

It was then Tuskeege called him 

At last had come the Morn, 
To teach and defend his fellowmen 

For which work he was born. 
His soul urged him to go 

He was filled with new zeal 
Determined his Brothers should know 

What it means, To Be Free. 

(61) 



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Ever Onward, to reach higher ground 

Helping 'all People to greater aim 
The world in admiration now found 

Dr. Washington, rightly chose, 
name. 
Instructing the Negroes to buy land 

To study the advantage of soil 
Proving his theory with his hands 

Showing the profit of honest toil. 

XII. 

In the pleas for his race 

A great Orator, was made known 
Sought not for a political place 

Ever striving to help his own 
Respected in courts of fame 

Daily honored by rich and poor, 
Popularity never made him vain 

But was loved as, "Booker," of old. 

XIII. 

Then God called his servant home 

Called the Great Educator to rest 
Leaving his friends to fight alone 

To live forever with the Blest, 
A lasting monument is left 

In hearts of young and feeble 
And though parted by death 

He still is. Father of His People. 



his 



PAUL LAURANCE DUNBAR. 

In eighteen seventy one. 
Two freed slaves met in life; 
(62) 



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Joshua Dunbar, Matilda Murphy's love 
won, 
And were united as husband and wife. 

Matilda from a little child, 

Was a lover of poetry and art; 

And always in a manner mild, 
She dealt with cduel hearts. 

So it was the following year, 

A son to her was born; 
The black face, the infant dear, 

Who gave the world book and song. 

At seven years of age. 

New ideas entered his life; 
His mind in best thoughts engaged, 

And his dreams he began to write. 

By birth, a genius and poet. 

By writing, won world wide fame, 

The black author lived to know it; 
Paul Laurence Dunbar by name. 

Literature, spelling, and grammer, 
Were his favorite studies in school. 

He was modest and timid in manners. 
And obedient to the rules. 

He edited the High School Times, 
Which contents interesting found. 

By diligence he did climb. 

To success and future renown. 

But at last the time had come, 
To launch out and labor find. 

Graduating in eighteen ninety one. 
Leaving schoolmates and friends behind 

(63) 



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His color was against all he'd done, 
Every one to him seemed greater. 

An elevator boy's task he begun; 
Looking for recognition later. 

Few flowers in his path were stresvn, 
But there were many thorns. 

His determination was not to ruin, 
The talent that was in him born. 

A quaint philosophy was breathed, 
In his dialect poems and prose; 

Some were thoughts he achieved, 
And others gleamed from stories told. 

One evening Dunbar entered home. 

With a smile on his face. 
The first difficulty he had won, 

For his people and his race. 

His "Oak and Ivy poems" printed. 

Made wide his reputation; 
And though of African decent. 

He was generous to all nations. 

The poet was defender of his race; 

His life work did devote her, 
And his soul contents we trace. 

In his Ode to Ethiophia. 

To Chicago to the world's fair. 
He must go aid his brother; 

Alone the burden was hard to bear; 
He hated to leave his mother. 

But by special Providence, 
He found work and friends, 
(64) 



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Who always came to his defense, 
With willing aids to lend. 

Honorable Fred Douglass said, 
He's a promising Colored man; 

To him tribute should be paid, 
For the place that he demands. 

In congress in Washington, 

He became efficient in literary work. 
Though hardest blows he'd overcome, 

Never would be duty shirk. 

His fourth book, "The Lyrics and Hearth- 
side." 

Was dedicated to Alice, his wife. 
His wise counsellor and guide, 

And the sunshine of his life. 

Of the shadows of Rocky Mountain, 
In broken health the poet cried, 

"Once I drank from thy fountains, 
And sat on thy rugged side. 

Once I was young and strong, 

A healthy robust lad, 
I admired the bird songs, 

I smiled when I was sad. 

All men held the poet dear. 
For he lived a life worth while; 

Although his end was drawing near. 
He was happy, calm, and mild. 

He gazed on the flowers sent him. 

To give his pains relief, 
But in a few days left them 

And was numbered with the deceased. 

(65) 



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Doctor H. T. Tobey, of Toledo, 
Mourned the loss of his friend. 

He regretted the Great must go, 
As the other sons of men. 

Ethiophia long shall weep. 
And shall always honor give, 

For though the poet now doth sleep, 
His work shall ever live. 



THE SLAVE'S DYING PRAYER. 

(Original Poem by Ada Tessibel Peters.) 

In the year 1619 a Dutch vessel 

Sailed the waters of the Black sea 
With the angry waves it wrestled 

Traveling to a land called the Free. 
Thirty Negroes trembling with fear 

Hovered in a dark and dingy hull 
Many strange tongues they could hear 

While fast faded the land they loved 
Though they were heathens yet they 
prayed 

With the conquering spirit of their race 
To the God of stone, who ruled the day 

While hope beamed on every face. 

■ • - d i i ■: S ^ -i't 

II. 

At last the vessel landed at Jamestown 

With it's cargo of Human Souls 
Naked they stepped on slave cursed 
ground 

And like beast of the field were sold. 
For two hundred and fifty years 

Our people knelt in the dust 
Robbed of all a race holds dear 

(66) 



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To satisfy the white man's lust 
The tender ties of mother, father and 
child 
Were crushed beneath feet of heartless 
might 
They were hunted like creatures wild 
Their moans were bird songs of the 
night. 

III. 

The thought of Independence burned 

On the Sacred Altar of their Heart 
Though humiliated and spurned 

They were ready to play their part. 
Engulfed in poverty, they could see 

The cloud of a long and bloody strife 
Stronger grew the desire to be free 

To stand like men and pay the price 
In the starless night of ignorance 

A just God showed them the way 
He gave them patience and endurance 

For a God of mercy heard them pray. 

IV. 

The slaves wept and prayed for joy 

When on April the twelfth 1863 
Was fired the guns of the Civil War 

In the struggle to set us free. 
The Blue and Gray alike upheld 

The cause they thought was right 
They bravely fought and fell 

Sacrificing honor and life. 
In the game of Freedom and Death 

The fearless Negro dashing and brave 
Urged on by memories in his breast 

Died to redeem the Human race. 

(67) 



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V. 

Abraham JUincoln, who believed 

In the equal rights of man 
Said, "To save the union I will free 

All slaves through out the land." 
Lincoln on January the first 1863 

Issued the Emacipation, Proclamation 
Declaring, the Negroes are set free 

From cruel slavery and degradation. 
Thus penniless, but free we left 

Our old plantation homes 
Facing starvation and death 

Knowing not whither we roamed. 

VI. 

But providence was our guide 

Along the rough and thorny path 
Little by little we strived 

To overcome the dreadful past. 
Before the bar of justice the Negro stands 

As the grand champion of his race 
Begging and pleading for the Rights of 
Man 

Forgetting his kinky hair and black 
face 
In the Medical profession he longs 

To lengthen and enoble life 
Healing the wounds of the wronged 

A bearer of the Sacred Light. 

VII. 

The Black Poets, doth write 

Of their beloved Dixie Land 
Singing of the picturesque sights 

Of the hot and scorching sands; 
Though poverty attended the Negroe's 
birth 

(68) 



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Industry has been his home 
In tilling the soil he's proved his worth 

Regardless of the trials he's borne 
Through sorrow and toil may be 

Our humble and lowly career 
Let us thank God we're free 

For rest lies beyond the veil of tears. 

VIII. 
An old slave mammy who's hair 

Is covered with snow, that never melt 
Smiling prayed this dying prayer 

In the land of her humble birth. 
"0, God, I shall soon be with Thee 

In a land where all is love 
My prayers are answered, I die in peace 

To join the Heavenly Hosts above, 
My body shall soon return to dust 

Beneath the cold and damp sod, 
How sweet in death to have trust 

In a true and living God. 

IX. 

Just as death in his chariot will come 

To still my heart and bear me away 
So will the prize we seek be won 

When some of you sleep, beneath the 
clay 
At last the hour has come 

And she bids us a parting farewell 
She has kept the faith, her work is done 

And all is well, all is well." 



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1 THE NEGRO'S PROGRESS. 

^ From the roaring cannons of sixty five, 
From the hour the Negroes were alive; 

(69) 



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They thankfully thanked the God of peace 
Who thQm from bondage did release. 

Departing from ones that once knew 
success, 

Helpless, launched out to do their best 
And in the struggle to be recognized. 

They were oft defeated on every side. 

But with sincerety that cannot be stilled, 
They, educational schools begun to 
build; 
Making progress, but failed to know it, 
Until Literature welcomed its black 
slave poet. 
As famous actors, they played their part; 
They demanded fame in the world of 
art; 
From Colored papers can be traced, 
The progress of a short freed race. 

Coming from poor farmers our songsters 
found 
The door of progress opened to re- 
nown; 
Our graduates of college sought no rest, 
Until the world had received their best. 

Blacksmiths and carpenters were in de- 
mand. 
Lawyers and doctors each took their 
stand. 
Slave orators, the people did address 
Telling them of the black brother's 
progress. 

From the pulpit they learned of God; 
(70) 



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By reading books their minds grew 
broad ; 
They were honest and loved one another, 
And never forgot their weaker brother. 

For they by the aid of Providence, 
Their missionaries to African shores 
sent. 

To teach them of their own accord, 
To worship the true and living God. 

Thus many have crossed the reckless sea 

And seek knowledge of people free 
To learn, that others they might reach, 

To return home and their kindred 
teach. 
With helping hands go to their defense. 

That their hearts then might be con- 
tent. 
In school they've learned to be clever; 

They are taught to stick together 

They have musicians and chorus bands. 
They organize lodges throughout the 
land; 
Work in factories of every kind; 
Being industrious, they'll always laboir 
find. 

Own nice homes and large fertile farms 
With modern conveniences to multiply 
their charms. 
Run hotels and stores in every state. 
Work on boats, passenger trains and 
freights. 

In prominent banks they are clerks; 

(71) 



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For firms they're doing real estate 

work; 
Our specialists and dentists are having 

success, 
Ranking like the whites, with the best. 

Our editors of papers and magazines. 

In writing have proved to be serene; 
Colored stenographers hold positions 
that pay; 
Chauffers are hired by months and 
days. 

Elevator boys are paid by the week; 
Black cops are bravely guarding their 
beats; 
Contractors and plasterers do efficient 
work ; 
Bankers and business men are thous- 
ands worth. 

Lecturers tell how the black race rose; 
How great leaders among them were 
choose; 
How the bleeding backs from slavery's 
chains, 
Rose up to be a people again. 

Clouds of darkness and then shown light 
That awaken minds to opportunities of 
life. 

If this be true why not stand, 
And demand all rights due to man. 

For though progress we've made 'tis true 
There is still greater work to do. 

There should be love for one another; 
Love that envieth not its brother. 
(72) 



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But delights in mankind's success, 
That strives in life to be best. 

When we stand as great men stood, 
And as a people unite in brotherhood. 

We'll not by other race be passed; 

Or with the ignorant ones be classed. 
We'll not in the rear be shoved; 

We'll not be dispised but loved. 

We'll not be Jim Crowed or scorned; 

Or hate the day that we were horned. 
We then can realize education's worth. 

We'll know how to appreciate free- 
dom's birth. 

We can face the difficulties of life; 

Can be true to the stars and stripes. 
Then gladly our enemies we'll befriend. 

We will help the sons of men. 

And through the land the message send; 

"We're rising through love and not 
revenge. 
We're rising with praise and jubilee song 

We're rising to righten the wrong." 

"We're rising for we could hot rest. 
Until the black boys had made progress 

Rising to praise the ruler of all. 
Who caused bondage's strong chains 
to fall. 

Rising as pilgrims of the night; 

Rising to defend the right; 
Rising till Ethiophia stretches forth her 
hands. 
And claims her people of the land. 

(73) 



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THE COST OF REPENTANCE. 

(Original •Poem by Ada Tessibel Peters.) 

As the Sun sank behind the mountain 

And the flowers bowed their heads 
Earth was watered from Heaven's Foun- 
tain, 

While I mourned with my dead. 
Through the window the stars gazed 

Upon my mother's form, 
Listening they heard me pray 

For all I had was gone. 
Upon her calm face I read 

My future destiny 
Her soul had fled 

Into Eternity. 

II. 

"Mother," I cry, 

But she hears me not 
For motionless she lies 

Upon my childhood cot. 
Deep wrinkles I carved 

Upon her once fair face 
I've sinned against God 

Behold the price I pay, 
Her eyes now closed in sleep 

With tears I often filled 
It is now my time to weep 

For the heart I broke is still. 

III. 

A vision rose before me 

Revealing my deeds of the past 

From that scene, I tried to flee 
But memory held me fast. 

I saw my comrades dance 
(74) 



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Down a broad and smooth road 
At first I thought them emigrants 

But on their baclcs, they bore no load, 
Just ahead these words I beheld 

In letters large and bold 
"The road that leads to hell 

To shame and endless woe." 

IV. 

I see my people 

In the gambling dens 
Squabbling and cheating 

As they lose and win. 
Some child is crying for bread 

Some poor form trembles with cold 
It's father to this den is led 

While poverty knocks at his door. 
His wife haggard and worn 

On the verge of death 
For years this burden has borne 

Longs for rest, sweet rest. 

V. 

To my pleadings they payed no heed 

While cruel death lay in wait 
But with merry and dancing feet 

Stumbled on to meet their fate 
Hark I hear Cries of distress 

Wails and shrieks of woe 
Prayers of agony ascend for help 

They are prisoners of the foe 
Lo, a gulf opens 

And head long in they fall 
The dying words that are spoken 

"Hide me from an, Angry God." 

VI. 
My comrades on the ball-room floor 

(75) 



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Are dancing the dance of death 
Vile men lurk within the door 

Garbe5 in the best of dress. 
Some mother's daughter is deceived 

As she partakes of wine 
Her partner's false words are believed 

For he's attractive and kind. 
Ah, if she could have read 

The motive in his heart 
From his clutch would have fled 

While her fair name bore no blot. 

VII. 
I had followed but yesterday 

This fatal and sinful crowd 
I found myself trying to pray 

Pleading with a merciful God 
I have spurned God's Saints 

And his words put to scorn 
Fighting for worldly fame 

Trying to live alone 
Mother's prayer has saved me 

From an early grave 
My soul from sin she freed 

Her life for me she gave. 

VIII. 

When my youthful days are o'er 

And my hair is faded gray 
When my steps are weak and slow 

And my form is bent with age, 
Mother welcome will be 

That long and sweet repose 
To live once more with thee 

In thy blest abode 
Life's journey'll be ended 

But friends j'ou'll not forget 
Humanity's cause I defended 

When my eye lids are closed in death 

(76) 



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THE DEFENDER OF RIGHT. 

^ On the lonely bank of Nolin creek, 

^ The full moon looked down and smiled 

While the bubbling waters tried to speak 
Of the new born loved cabin child. 

The tall green shaggy forest pine, 
§ Round the little log cabin swayed, 

^ And seemed to whisper to eighteen nine, 

We're proud of the sun you gave, 
^ Song birds from their lofty height, 
^ Sang to sleep the farm house babe, 

^ And the watch dog through the night, 
M Guarded the crib of sleeping Abe. 

I 

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S^ But time fast on its journey sped, 
=s^ Never tiring of its weary load; 

^ And to Indiana Abe Lincoln led, 
^ To help find a new abode. 

g5 The Lincoln family near Gentryville 
^ Ceased their long tiresome roam. 

^ Aided by King forest timber to build, 
M They soon entered their new log home; 

» And though unprotected from the cold, 
^ Was the rude log planked shelter. 

Young Abe lived without fret or scold, 
Till Providence gave them better. 

I 

a The healthy robust country lad, 
^ In making new furniture took pride, 

^ For thoughts of living made him glad, 
M In a cabin of four strong sides. 

^ 'Twas in that cabin loft at night 
Mid the hum of birds and bees. 
Our hero dreamed of bonfires bright, 

(77) 



On his bed of sweet smelling leaves. 
When restless cattle in their stalls. 

Lowed for their meal of hay, 
Lincoln went forth to his daily toil, 

And forgot his dreams of play. 

IV. 

Suddenly in the midst of childhood joy, 

Came Death, the unwelcome brother. 
And took from the happy country boy, 

His kind, loving, faithful mother. 
The grieved, young, brave loyal heart 

Beat slow through the hour of pain, 
Left alone to play a Christian's part 

Till they'd meet to ne'er part again. 
When the world was lost in gloom, 

And mankind was fast asleep 
Abe wept besides his mother's tomb. 

Till his soul in prayer found peace. 



Ever upward in life he was reaching, 

His just debts he always paid, 
And true to his mothers teaching, 

He was rightfully called Honest Abe. 
As a flower comes from its bud. 

To make the gloomy pathway bright, 
So the poor son of noble blood 

Came to cheer man in his strife. 
Though tired by the fire at night, 

He would not from duty shirk, 
But learned how to read and write, 

Thus preparing for lifes great work. 

VI. 

In the wild forest of Illinois, 
With no company save his ax, 
(78) 



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Unaccustomed to life's luxury and joy, 

He split rails to clothe his back. 
And though stronger were his brawny 
arms 

Than any of the shrewd school lads. 
He was never known to do them harm, 

For a kind loving heart he had. 
Ever ready to help those in need, 

But I want you to understand. 
He could help a drowning pig, 

As well as his fellow man. 

VII. 

And as old time grew faster 

This bare footed boy so free, 
Became a surveyor and postmaster. 

And a lawyer honored for honesty. 
Faithful in little things among the few, 

There came to him a greater call; 
Elected four times to State Legislature, 

And from there to Congress hall. 
But this tall, green, awkward, man 

Was not ready yet to stop, 
He was needed for a greater stand, 

For his place was at the top. 

VIII. 

So the rail splitter's time had come. 

And all that he'd hoped to be; 
Beneath the stars of sixty one, 

Stood as President of the free. 
The loyal defender of Union and Right, 
Saw a rising struggle mid the brave; 
While on each side man gave life, 

He pitied the four million slaves. 
To preserve the Union was his stand. 

And to protect the Stars and Stripes. 

(79) 



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But he could not rest while man 
Was robbed of freedom and right. 

IX. 

In the cherished year of sixty three, 

Lincoln performed and act of bravery. 
And his fellow men set free, 

Forever from the pangs of slavery. 
Thus the welcomed year of sixty five, 

Untold joy to mankind brought, 
Making humanity proud and alive, 

For the freedom they long had sought. 
And as ye journey sons of Ham, 

Forget not how the cause was won. 
By our loyal martyr, God's chosen man, 

Our true, honored, loved, Abraham 
Lincoln. 



SONS OF W. V. I. 

(By Ada T. Peters.) 

Uncle Sam we give Our Sons 

The sons of W. V. I. 
To the struggle just begun 

That World Freedom may not die. 

II. 
Though we're from the mountains 

From the valley and the dale. 
We drank from Liberty's Fountain, 

That flowed freely, by the way. 

III. 

President Prillerman taught us 
While infants, in student life,- 

To place our love and trust. 

In the good old Stars and Stripes. 
(80) 



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IV. 

The sons of W. V. I. 

Each persued his daily task 
When we heard Humanity's Cry 

And saw war clouds rising fast. 



"Boys, 'tis Duty that has called, 
Rang on the Institute lawn 

Books and tools began to fall 
As the truth, slowly dawned. 

VI. 

So farewell W. V. I. 

We must leave you now 
We go to fight and die 

That justice may be found. 



MUSING. 

(By E. P. Peters.) 

I sat by my window at eventide. 
While the sun sank in the west. 

I was far from home. 
And my heart was sad 

And filled with a keen unrest. 

I sighed for the days that passed. 

Like pleasant dreams of night, 
Tears of sadness coursed 
Down my cheeks, 
As the sun sank from my sight. 

I thought of all the happy hours, 

I had spent round the dear home fire, 

(81) 



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Not more did my heart desire. 



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I longed for the food my mother prepared 

That now I seemed to taste, 
I longed for the crumbs. 
From the cubbard shelves. 
That once I used to waste. 

I sighed for the friends I loved so well; 

But my sighs seemed all in vain; 
I turned towards the skies. 
And prayed this prayer, 
"Lord let me get home again." 

"Home where my mother and father 
dwell 
Home where abides peace and rest. 
For I felt like a bird, 
In a cold strange land, 
Far from Its native nest. 

Home to the ones that love me; 

To the friends that never grow old; 
Who think of me kindly. 
Wherever I am. 
Though others to them grow cold. 

I sit and dream and deeply grieve, 
For the scenes that are no more; 
For the sound of my mother's loving 

voice. 
As she called me. 
From the door. 

I see again my father's face. 
As he called me to his side, 
(82) 



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And bade me live a noble life, 
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He bade me in my life at school, 
What ever else took place, 

To live for God and fatherland and 
The honor of my race. 

0, God, do grant my humble cry, 
And help me on my way; 

Help me to help my fellow man, and 
Cheer him on his way. 




(83) 



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